


harder better faster stronger

by catmanu



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, English Premier League, Hand Jobs, Liverpool F.C., M/M, baby's first movren, obligatory rockfilius mention, this is more like explicit minus or mature plus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmanu/pseuds/catmanu
Summary: “Hey. If I’m so good why haven’t I played for more than 20 minutes recently? I am the best at keeping the bench covered with my ass or what?”“Shhh, shhh. We all won tonight, alright? Did you hear what they were saying? All the firsts. We are the first Egyptian and the first Croatian to win the Premier League. And that’s cool, Dej, you know? Even if you did some of it with the bench covered with your ass.”Of course, it all makes sense. Mo Salah can beat any team in the league, so of course he can also beat a night’s worth of beer. Dejan feels the blood pooling right where he wants it.
Relationships: Dejan Lovren/Mohamed Salah, Dejan Lovren/Šime Vrsaljko (mentioned)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	harder better faster stronger

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this tiny little video](https://www.instagram.com/p/CB4TlgKhwFx/).

He’s starting to wobble on his feet as he sends the millionth video to Šime. And so what if Mo is in the videos, all of them? Šime won’t care. He knows Dejan loves him _so much._

He looks around. The boys are all dancing to Daft Punk. Harder better faster stronger. They’re shouting and taking selfies and they won’t notice if—He sets his mostly-empty bottle down on a table so hard it hits another one and almost knocks it over—They won’t notice if he just—He comes up behind Mo and gives his soft curls a good little tug.

It says a lot about him and about Mo and about him and Mo that nothing happens—Liverpool’s greatest of all time doesn’t jump or even look to see who’s grabbing him.

“What do you want, brate? Finally you’re asking for my autograph?”

All the boys say _brate_ now, with none of them even speaking a language where that’s a word! because of him, and it makes Dejan feel so warm and so loved and just how he always likes to feel. But he doesn’t let himself get distracted. He grabs even more of Mo’s curls with his sweaty, drunk hand, and pulls harder _better faster stronger._

“I’m not asking for anything,” he says. “When do I ever ask?”

“You don’t like to ask things, no.”

 _Tako jeeeeeee!_ Dejan thinks, even though aloud he says “That’s right.”He doesn’t really want to let go of Mo’s hair.“So are your feet stuck to the ground or what?”

Mo follows him out of the room full of music and yelling and red shirts.Dejan doesn’t want to let go of his hair, so he doesn’t.He pulls harder as they walk.

“Easy, Dej.I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not by yourself, you’re not,” Dejan mutters.“But with me…a bathroom,” Dejan says.“That is what we need…a nice, romantic bathroom.A Mo-mantic bathroom, right?”He laughs at himself.The men’s room is right there next to them.

Mo sighs.“There’s gotta be a private one, Dej, please.”

“I got you, Mo.I got you—here it is, look.A miracle.”A sign on the wall points them to the accessible bathroom.He drags Mo inside and slams the door and wastes no time in collapsing on top of the toilet, pulling Mo onto his lap so he’s straddling his hips.Even in the painfully bright light, Mo’s eyes are dark and beautiful, and for a moment Dejan can’t breathe.He wets his lips and leans toward Mo, and—

“I am so drunk.I shouldn’t kiss you—God, I’m so sorry, I’m stupid.Dejan Lovren is stupid.Don’t tell anyone, Mo.”

“I’ll try not to.”

He rests his head on Mo’s shoulder instead, and rubs his cheek against his beard.He misses those lips, he misses those lips more than anything right now, but he’s way too full of booze to put his mouth on someone who doesn’t drink.He’s a good person.Some people think he isn’t, but they don’t know anything about him, they don’t fucking know _anything_ about him at all.

“Hey Dej.Wake up.Wake up.Do you want some coffee, Dej?”Mo giggles a little and Dejan wonders why, why, _why_ is he into guys who tease him so much?“I’ll pay this time.”

“Oh, look. _Now_ he says he’ll pay.Now he says…” He palms Mo’s bulge through the black shorts they’re both wearing.It’s not that the way they talk to each other is…sexy, or something. But fuck, does it get him going, does it get him…. “ I’m so lucky to have you as my best friend, Mo.”He thinks about Šime for a quick second.“My best friend in England.” He squeezes.“And everyone knows it.”

“Dej, Dej. Maybe stop. We shouldn’t do this in the bathroom.”

“Fuck’s sake, Mo. As if you care. We’ve—“

“Just joking, Dej. You’re so serious.”Mo presses his forehead against Dejan’s.“I’m just messing with you.It is part of my…celebration.”

“Well, celebrate some other way, you are confusing me here.Like this, brate.”He takes Mo’s hand and puts it between his legs, gently spreading out his fingers so he can squeeze, tug, whatever the fuck he wants, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

“Dejan, I’m insulted…My hand is here and nothing’s happening.”

“Shit. Drank too much,” Dejan mutters.He’s so in love but the world is swimming and he can’t stay focused enough to get hard.“Just…keep trying, okay?”

Mo has very cautious fingers as he grips Dejan’s cock through his shorts.He always does, like he’s unsure of himself or something.Dejan’s never said anything about it.After all, if Mo really doesn’t want to do something, he makes it very clear.“Who is the best defender in the world?” he asks, his thumb making gentle circles over the tip.Dejan isn’t sure if he’s teasing him or what.He sighs, shaky, letting his head droop onto Mo’s shoulder again.

“ _One_ of the, fuck, Mo, I said _one_ of the—“

“Shhh, Dej. No, no. It’s okay, you can say it here, it’s just me listening.”

Dejan won’t kiss Mo, no. So he puts his lips on Mo’s neck and kisses him there instead.“Brate…if you’re making fun of me I’ll—”

“Come on, say it, Dej.”

“Okay, okay.I’m the—“ His dick feels like it might actually wake up. Something pulses in it for a minute.“Hey.If I’m so good why haven’t I played for more than 20 minutes recently? I am the best at keeping the bench covered with my ass or what?”

“Shhh, shhh.We all won tonight, alright?”Mo’s hand is moving so _fucking_ slowly Dejan thinks he’ll scream.He rocks against the man on his lap just a bit, trying to get hard.He _wants_ to.“Did you hear what they were saying?All the firsts.We are the first Egyptian and the first Croatian to win the Premier League.And that’s cool, Dej, you know?Even if you did some of it with the bench covered with your ass.”

Of course, it all makes sense.Mo Salah can beat any team in the league, so of course he can also beat a night’s worth of beer.Dejan feels the blood pooling right where he wants it.He thinks about what to do next.Mo feels so heavy on his thighs.He could switch their spots around so Mo was sitting on the toilet, get down on his knees.He could suck him off, make it wet and sloppy, and walk out of the bathroom wiping his mouth with the back of his hand right there in front of all the boys. That would be a _power move_ , and what is better than a power move from a powerful defender? But thinking of putting anything in his mouth is making all the alcohol in his stomach unhappy.

So he shoves his hand underneath the waistband of Mo’s shorts and the tighter waistband of his underwear and finds a familiar semi.“Mmmm, fuck.Want this, I want you.”

“Take my shorts off, Dej. I don’t want to get them dirty.”

“But I would like that.”

“Brate, that wasn’t a question.”

“Well. You get your way again, brate.”Dejan shoves Mo off his lap and tugs on his clothes, leaving him naked from the waist down.He licks his lips at the beautiful cock that’s so close to his face.There’s very little he loves more than dick in his mouth— _his_ in someone else’s mouth, maybe—and it’s so tempting to just take it all in, swallow it down to the base till he gags on it.But he pulls his own shorts off instead, and his Rock Filius boxer briefs join the Calvin Kleins on the bathroom floor.He takes Mo back onto his lap and moans when their bare skin touches.

“Shhh, Dejan.The guys…”

“What?You’re crazy, Mo, you think they’re all going to take the party into the accessible bathroom?We’re all good, brate.You shhh and enjoy.”He traces his thumbs over the hair on Mo’s thighs.He can’t imagine being with a man who didn’t have a footballer’s legs, the muscle, the strength, the—He grabs Mo’s dick and now it is Mo’s turn to bury his head into Dejan’s shoulder. Dejan throws his arm around Mo’s strong back, pulling him even closer, and begins pumping his cock with his other hand.He doesn’t hold back.He doesn’t care if this goes quickly.He wants it so badly.So many months of none of this during the lockdown.He needs this.

Mo is panting into Dejan’s shoulder—he can feel how hot his breath is through his shirt—and Dejan thinks of Šime’s grunts and moans that would make a porn star jealous, and how Mo is so much quieter.He is sneaky.You wouldn’t think he’s feeling anything until his thumbs start digging into your back and then his nails join in and he—he— and then he talks sometimes, he talks.

Like he is now.“Dej, what about you?You are going to ignore yourself tonight, that’s how you celebrate?”

“Fuck, no.Fuck.I’m just distracted by you, okay, Mo? You’re distracting me.”And it’s true, Dejan has almost forgotten his own cock because of the way Mo’s feels in his fist.“Here.Come closer to me, Mo.”Mo slides forward, and Dejan grabs both of them, holding them together in his hand, and when he tightens his fist Mo mumbles something that he doesn’t understand.

“Don’t know what you just said so it must have been a compliment, brate,” Dejan says, though his head is spinning and Mo’s curls are getting in his mouth and talking seems hard and not important.But he doesn’t like being quiet. “You are so good.You are so perfect, Mo.How is your cock so smooth, even when it’s hard like this? You feel like velvet.” Mo is rocking on his lap, his fingers digging into Dejan’s shoulder blades, the soft hair on his balls tickling Dejan’s thigh where he’s sensitive, so sensitive. “You should see yourself now, beautiful boy.”

“How are you even seeing me with your face in my hair?” Mo moans into his shoulder.

“Well, I wasn’t, but—”They’re in a bathroom.There’s a mirror. _Duh._ He turns his head and looks at the sight.Him and their Egyptian king _running down the wing_ except right now Mo isn’t running anywhere because Dejan’s got him on his lap.Right now, he belongs to him.

Their dicks are starting to slide together, leaking, a little wet from his sweaty hand.He creeps his hand underneath Mo’s shirt—Liverpool red—the red of _champions_ —and strokes his show-off abs.They’re rising and falling with every breath, sure, but Dejan has felt them work harder than this, and he wants that now.

So he slips his hand back out and takes Mo’s in his own.He wraps it gently over his other hand—the one jerking them off—and presses each finger down.Gently.

“Now we’re together, see? Let’s go.Don’t be shy, Mo.”

“I’m not,” Mo insists.He squeezes Dejan’s hand tightly and suddenly they’re moving together fast, _really_ fast, not shyly, not carefully, not trying to make it last.He’s so drunk that it should slow him down but there’s a higher power at work here, helping him out, squirming on his thighs.Mo’s free hand finds its way through the hair at the back of his head—he pulls—and Dejan thinks maybe he _shoul_ d let it grow long because the jolt of pain makes even more blood rush to his dick than he thought was possible.

“Gonna come for me brate?”

“Dej, you know I will, Dej...”

“Good, cause I will come for you, I’m going to...” He scrapes his teeth across Mo’s neck and runs his thumb over their cocks—they feel different underneath his thumb, yes, but right now they’re both hot and strained and leaking and—fuck— “Mo, brate, I’m gonna—“

He manages to be aware of the lips mouthing at his shoulder, soaking his shirt, saying his name once, then louder twice, then an I-don’t-care-who’s-listening third time.And then that’s all his drunk and in love brain can handle for a few moments. Everything feels good and everything feels right and he’s champion and everything’s perfect—

He comes back to real life with his cock still twitching in his cramped fist and his hand absolutely soaked. So they both came. He missed it. But that’s alright. There will be many more times.

Dejan uses his clean hand to carefully take Mo’s off of his sticky one. He holds his fingers to his mouth and tastes—it makes his head spin—and wipes them on his leg.Maybe he’ll shower when he eventually gets home, or maybe not.

He rests his forehead against Mo’s again as they catch their breath.

“Imagine, this is me kissing you, okay?” Dejan pants.“Just with my forehead.”

“Dej, relax.”Mo puts his thumb on Dejan's lips and Dejan closes them around it.“You’re breathing too hard, I don’t know what to do if you have a heart attack or something.”

Dejan pulls at Mo’s shirt instead, both hands making fists in the Liverpool red.Relax?No.That’s not something he’s good at.He doesn’t even want to be good at that.

“But I’m good at making you feel good, brate,” he mumbles.

He _feels_ Mo get ready to say something sarcastic and then stop himself.“Yes, Dej.You are.Of course.”

“Love you.”His head is really spinning now. He hears their party in the distance—the music is slower than before, but Dejan is still thinking _harder better faster stronger_ because he’ll never calm down, no, he’ll never fucking relax, not when he can be Mo’s best friend and do this with him whenever he likes.And it’s good, it’s good, fuck, they’re the first Egyptian and the first Croatian to win the Premier League, and it’s good.

**Author's Note:**

> I was only vaguely sure of what I was doing here, so...kudos and comments would make my day! :)
> 
> Talk to me me on [insta](https://www.instagram.com/griziwave/) or [tumblr](http://theboywiththedejantattoo.tumblr.com)!


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